


Double Helix

by Feran_Sensei



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, But not Mirror Spock??, Developing Relationship, Evil Spock, LOL idek, M/M, Mind Split, Multiple Personalities, Relationship Problems, Relationship(s), Smut, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Ugh -0-, What am I doing?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9376076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feran_Sensei/pseuds/Feran_Sensei
Summary: "This wasn't Spock. This was a monster--a demon that was doing as it pleased with his friend and was now going to do the same with him."---Spock's mind is split in two, and it's up to Leonard to make him whole again.The only problem is, he doesn't know which is Spock's true self.And exactly who of the two is he really in love with?





	1. Night Shift

An uneasy feeling churned within his stomach as he sunk down into his med-bay office chair. He propped his head into his hand and let out an exhausted sigh.

Leonard was dead tired; there was no disputing that fact. He looked as though he'd run one hundred laps around the ship, did a cardio workout just for shits and giggles, then shook out and fought a war.

And really, maybe he had. With all of the fussing he did around sick-bay, the running he did to and from the turbo lift when Jim had the _audacity_ to call him to the bridge in the middle of a crisis, and the constant bickering with Spock--he, all in all, could say that those really were the true reasons he was on his last leg.

"Oh, hell..." He groaned, swiveling his chair so that he faced the desk and then rested his elbows on the table. He rubbed at his weary eyes.

Yes, Leonard could say that his workload was rough. By all means, it sure as hell wasn't a half-cock job, but he'd be lying if he said he couldn't handle the stress.

He was a doctor, after all; he _was_ trained for constant, high stress situations. That's what he'd gone to school for.

If he was being one hundred percent truthful with himself, though, the real reason he felt like he was about to keel over only halfway through his shift was his utter lack of sleep for the past week. It was a bit shameful, to be honest, but it wasn't as if he were passionately volunteering for overtime or purposefully staying up for work. No, the damn papers could always wait, and really weren't worth skipping sleep for.

The true culprit behind his sleep deprivation was that infuriating, annoying, obnoxious, know-it-all, Vulcan named _Spock_.

A sudden, frantic banging sounded at his office door, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Doctor McCoy! Doctor, you're needed out here immediately!" Leonard cursed under his breath as he stood forcefully. Slunching over to the door, he slammed his fist into the activation panel.

"Miss Chapel," He hissed before the door had even completely opened, his eyes dark, "I asked you for five minutes of quiet. Surely you can do your job well enough to take care of a few good-for-nothing ensigns--" From behind a distraught looking Chapel came a sudden, loud crash. It was just then that Leonard heard the grunts and cursing of a six man security team trying to tie someone to the bio-bed.

"My god," Doctor senses kicking in, Leonard brushed past her and jogged over to them just as one of the men stumbled back and roared in pain, his hands clutching his bloody nose. Leonard stepped in to help, his breathing catching for an ephemeral moment as he saw just who they were having trouble holding down.

He instantly turned from the struggling men, flicking through vials and looking over misplaced tools that had been flung about everywhere. He finally found his hypo, loaded it with a heavy tranquilizer, and injected it into the disturbed man. The hissing filled the room before everyone went silent.

Leonard was the first to speak.

"For Christ's sake, Chapel," He growled, turning promptly towards the frightened woman. Leonard knew she didn't deserve his wrath, but he was tired and this--this was utter bullshit, "Why the hell didn't you give 'im the hypo!?"

"I-I..." She stuttered, but Leonard cut her off with something like an _ahck_ before turning back to the bio-bed, tossing the empty hypo onto the bedside tray. The metallic sound made everyone flinch, but Leonard just stared, angrily baffled, at an unconscious, clearly agitated Mr. Spock.

"What the hell happened?" He asked finally, heaving a heavy sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Mr. Spock, the Captain, and a security team beamed down to the surface." One of the guards began, "Everything was going smoothly right up until we beamed aboard-we got samples, examined the natives without interference then came straight back...Mr. Spock, well, he...started getting angry. No one dared touch him and we left him alone for a long while. It seemed alright just to give him some space for a few hours but, just a moment ago when he returned to the Bridge, he got aggressive..." McCoy bit the inside of his cheek in thought, examining the sleeping Vulcan.

"So Jim ordered him to sickbay." He finished, leaning forward and grabbing Spock's face to get a better look. There was definitely something wrong, his colour was altogether off and he looked pale and sickly. "Why the hell wasn't I called up for the landing party like always?" He mumbled grumpily to himself in thought, wondering just what Jim had been thinking.

_Left his Chief Medical Officer behind while he went down to a primitive, potentially dangerous ecosystem--what the hell am I even here for then?_

With a wave of his hand and a dissatisfied grunt, Leonard dismissed the security team and ordered Chapel to help him put Spock in a comfortable position. They all scurried to do as they were told; no one dared disobey the infamous Doctor Leonard McCoy when the space between his brows was no longer present. With the unconscious Vulcan placed to Leonard's satisfaction, he used the bed's restraints to tie him down, then covered him with a fresh medical blanket.

"Will he be alright, Doctor?" Leonard hesitated, looking down at Spock with eyes full of confusion. There was a heaviness weighing on his chest and an irritation crawling beneathe his skin that made him want to jump into the ocean and sink to its dark depths for the rest of eternity; he'd be free of responsibility and worry. Free of expectations and he wouldn't have to be afraid of the unknown. He wouldn't have to be afraid that he couldn't save someone. A rush of anxiety swelled up inside him and he shivered at the thought.

Because giving up would mean that he had failed everyone--failed Spock--just like he had failed his father.

Tightening his jaw and clenching his fist, Leonard swallowed and diverted his gaze away from Spock. By God, he was tired. He didn't know how much more of this he could take...

"I don't know." He breathed, looking down to the floor knowing that the long process of diagnosing an unknown illness was just getting started.

_A Vulcan illness to complicate matters further._ He thought, then let out a _tsk._

"His vitals are all steady; he's perfectly healthy and everything seems normal. What could be wrong with him?" Leonard's stomach stirred uneasily as he closed his eyes and let out a weary breath.

"...I just...I don't know, Chapel. I really, really don't." He rubbed a hand down his face and sighed for what seemed to be the thousandth time, "But you can go get some rest. This late shift is mine anyway, and that tranquilizer won't be wearin' off anytime soon."

"But what if something happens and you need my help? I don't mind staying here to--"

"I said get some rest, Chapel." Leonard cut her off, then smiled somewhat mischievously before finishing with a lighthearted wink and, "Doctor's orders." With nothing more to say, Chapel nodded quietly and left med-bay, leaving Leonard with a sick, unconscious Vulcan and his own, just as plagued, thoughts.


	2. Snake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***This is the sorta sketchy chapter (almost rape, so if you wanna skip, go right ahead. *sorry sorry*)

He glanced down at the discombobulated bedside tray and noticed his PADD. Picking it up and tucking it beneathe his arm, he glanced at Spock one final time before sluggishly returning to his office.

What a long day it had been.

Plopping right back where he started, Leonard brought out his PADD and began running through all the know illnesses and allergies associated with the Vulcan race, as well as their symptoms and known treatments. There wasn't much there to go through. Well, not much compared to all the known human ailments, but he had already figured as much, what with Vulcans and their strange voodoo...

And, of course, there was nothing in the database covering any known similar cases or bouts of aggressiveness. The only thing he could think of that seemed rather similar in nature was _Pon Farr,_ but as physician aboard this ship--and after the first fiasco--Leonard had made it a point to keep track of all that mating ritual jazz, even if Spock wouldn't inform him personally. So that, then, was one option checked off his list of endless possibilities at least.

With a soft, weary hum of discontentment, Leonard dropped his PADD against the table and stared blankly at the wall on the opposite end of his small, dainty office. Absentmindedly he thought about just how small his own personal work space really was, but he supposed it was something at least. He didn't even have a closed off room in sick-bay until Jim noticed his habit of working himself to exhaustion. When McCoy had found out Jim had ordered a space for him in bio apart from the lab that connected to the rest of sick-bay, he was, of course, infuriated. It was _his_ sick-bay after all. What right did Jim have to make changes to it? But, nevertheless, Leonard was thankful, even if he didn't show it.

It was a place that he had all to himself. And it wasn't like his cabin; it wasn't a place where he could sleep and try to drown his miseries in whiskey, but rather a comfortable, tucked away space in his own ship's ward, surrounded by the things that he'd dedicated himself to. A place he could do his work at his own pace, or nothing if he fancied a break, and yet he was still close enough just in case he had a crisis on his hands so that he could be ready in seconds. It was somewhere he felt safe, and it eased the constant nagging on his nerves, if even just a bit, to be able to relax. It was not something a Doctor got to do very often, let alone the CMO of a starship. Jim knew him all too well.

Leonard felt himself dozing off, so he let himself lean back in his chair and closed his eyes. His mind began to drift farther away from the situation at hand, but closer, it seemed, to the problem causer. He wasn't entirely sure when it had all started, his almost _obsessive_ thinking about Spock--the whole reason he was so tired in the first place. He didn't know when it'd started but, by god, he could remember clear as day the moment he realised.

He'd been having an utterly normal, boring day and Jim had invited him to lunch in the mess hall as per usual. Leonard felt obligated to decline, since he was busy, but his stomach had forced him to accept, so he joined the Captain and the First Officer for a brief meal. The trio sat at their usual spot with Jim sitting to the left of Spock and Leonard, across from the two.

The Vulcan was rambling on about some _fascinating_ discovery that he'd made to Jim, completely disregarding his food. Jim, on the other hand, was scarfing down his serving of heart attack, likewise ignoring the Vulcan. Leonard found himself just staring.

Because it really was quite _adorable_ just how worked up Spock got over his discoveries. Leonard really was the same--so engulfed by his work in a professional and personal' manner--but it went to show just how much of a geek Spock really was. It could almost be seen as human how excited he was, and McCoy found that not only extremely heart warming and desirable but also somewhat enticing.

At the realisation that it was _Spock--_ of all people--that he had been daydreaming about, Leonard had choked on his salad which had earned him a strange look from the both of them and questions of concern. He dismissed them with a half choking, _"I'm fine, you morons. I just swallowed wrong--and hey, who's the Doctor here anyway!?"_

But he really, _really_ wasn't _fine._ In fact, he was far from it. He'd never actually caught himself in the middle of daydreaming before, and so his mind was like clockwork striking noon; it was as though the hands had clicked into place and memories of all the times he spaced out and found Spock in his mind came hurling back at warp speed. It hadn't been the first time he'd thought of Spock in a way other than professional, and he had turned red at the revelation. And even though it wasn't as if he were having provocative thoughts, it was still _Spock._ That in itself was enough to make him somewhat anxiously queasy.

He'd felt like an idiot because, honestly, how the hell did he not notice until then anyway? Was he blind? Either that or he was terribly ill. He'd have to give himself the run down...

But now that he had gotten on the subject of Spock, the Vulcan just wouldn't seem to leave his mind. Today was one of the few times that Leonard had ever seen emotion on Spock's face. There had been a few other incidents--totally out of the Vulcan's control, as Spock tells him--where emotion had come through, but tonight was the first time that Leonard had seen Spock look so _primal._ It was pure, raw rage engraved into his features, with something underlying like lust; he had looked like an animal.

And Leonard would forever blame it on the fatigue, but when Spock just happened to catch his eye, the Vulcan's russet piercing Leonard's sterling silver, he'd felt a rush of that longing pulse through him and settle in the pit if his stomach.

Leonard let out an almost inaudible gasp and sat up straight in his chair. Groaning and rubbing vigorously at his face, he tried to dismiss the sudden tightness of his work pants. He could practically feel the heat radiating off his face, his heart pounding in his throat.

He felt like a total virgin, getting so worked up over a little eye contact. But, _god,_ just thinking of that feral glare and Spock's ragged breathing made him want to run in there and rip the bastard's clothes off. Just imagine, Spock stripped naked, Leonard free to run his hands where ever he pleased...

And that was it; he couldn't take anymore. Pride be dammed, he was still just a man.

 _"Fuck."_ He groaned quietly under his breath, frantically undoing the button of his trousers. He leaned against his desk, his face in his hand, and let out a choked sigh as his cold fingers slipped into his boxers. A brief feeling of guilt and embarrassment fluttered into his mind, but as soon as he grabbed himself and started slowly stroking, it was completely lost.

All of his senses were flooded with Spock, and he couldn't help but to imagine the Vulcan's long, thin fingers grasping his cock instead of his own.

Leonard gasped as he quickened his pace, lacing his digits into his hair and gripping tightly.

 _"Spock."_ He sighed, his voice breaking as he choked on a throaty moan. He sank back into his chair and threw his head back, his brows knit in a wanton expression as he bit his lip.

He didn't even try to hold back the lustful noises that he was making, knowing that he couldn't, even if he'd wanted to. There was no one around to hear anyway, so to hell with decency.

 _"A-Ah, Spock~"_ But just as the last syllable fell from his lips, Leonard jerked hard as his chair was suddenly grabbed and forcefully turned away from his desk. He felt himself run cold, instinctively gripping at his pants which were halfway down his thighs, as those same, lustful, deep brown eyes stared at him from behind pointed, knitted brows; Spock's expression was completely void of all decent emotion.

And Leonard had never been more afraid in his entire life.

"S-Spo--" But before he could make another sound, he was abruptly cut off as the Vulcan covered his lips with his own, forcing his tongue inside of Leonard's mouth. He tried to protest, but he couldn't move; the pure shock seeming to have drained the life out of his limbs. His lungs began to burn and he tried to pull away in order to breathe, but he was trapped between Spock and the chair. Leonard felt himself getting dizzy, pure panic swarming in his mind and anxiety eating away at his stomach.

Spock finally pulled away, allowing Leonard to swallow down as much air as his lungs could take, and it was only then that he fully took in the gravity of the situation.

Spock was latched onto his throat, sending bouts of uncertain pleasure throughout his body. The Vulcan's hands were beneathe his shirt and in his pants and Leonard realised now that he wasn't too sure if this was really what he'd wanted.

Suddenly Spock grabbed his thighs and yanked him hard so that his bottom hung off the chair. Leonard let out a yelp, but almost instantly Spock covered his mouth with his hand and froze, staring at Leonard with eyes that could freeze magma.

"Don't. Make. A sound." He threatened, making sure to articulate with a murderous _tsk_. Leonard knew he was shaking terribly; he wouldn't of been able to even stay in this position if it weren't for Spock holding him with such a bruising force, and so he didn't know if he should nod or just stay still, but he couldn't of moved if he wanted to.

Spock finally retracted his hand slowly and, when Leonard didn't make to say anything, he grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him onto the floor.

Leonard bit his tongue and squeezed his eyes shut, the familiar burn of tears forming behind his eyelids, and it took everything he had to prevent himself from letting out a sob. He didn't want to think of what Spock would do to him if he disobeyed. He didn't even want to think of what he was doing to him right now.

Leonard flinched when the Vulcan pulled his already half off pants completely away from his legs and threw them to the side. His bottom half way completely bare and, feeling the cold floor against his skin, Leonard felt tears begin to flow freely down his face. He looked up towards Spock who's hair was discombobulated, his eyes looked wild, and his naked torso glistened in the low light from a sheen of sweat. He was in the process of unbuttoning his own trousers, his excitement clear even through the layers of clothing. Leonard swallowed hard, failing to dismiss the overwhelming fear.

He couldn't fight Spock, he knew that. Dammit, he could hardly hold his own against Jim, let alone this Vulcan and, just at that thought, Leonard felt so frail, so helpless, so _alone_.

Because this wasn't Spock. This was a monster--a demon that was doing as it pleased with his friend and was now going to do the same with him.

At the sound of Spock's zipper, Leonard squeezed his eyes shut again, feeling his legs being lifted and exposing him. He clenched his jaw--too afraid to do anything else--and couldn't help the pathetic cry that escaped his lips.

He held his breath, remembering that he wasn't supposed to make a sound, and waited for the nightmare that he knew was coming. Time seemed to still. Nothing moved.

But then he felt the soft caress of fingers on his wet face. He slowly opened his eyes; Spock was staring down at him with a confused, frightened expression. Leonard's legs were wrapped around the Vulcan's waist, but Spock didn't move, only continued to caress his cheeks with feather light touches that made it seem as if Leonard were glass.

He sure as hell felt that way.

Spock's mouth fell agape slightly, his eyes--as Leonard noticed--seemed to be different from before as he looked down at the position they were in. Noticing Leonard's lack of bottoms, and the fact that he was still trembling like mad, Spock glanced at him with mortified eyes before turning his head to scan the rest of the room briefly.

"D-D-Doctor..." He stuttered, looking down at Leonard as if he had no idea where he was. McCoy was still shaken but had managed to find a bit of his nerve as the Vulcan hesitated. He pulled his shirt down, at the same time sliding himself away from him until he somehow found himself against the leg of the table.

Spock's expression looked hurt. Not in a way that he was let down or offended, but hurt in the sense that he knew there was no way he could fix this.

"D-Doctor, I-I--"

"Get out." Leonard whispered, still not entirely sure if he knew what was going on.

"Doctor McCoy, I assure you that I meant no--"

"Please!" He screamed, gripping the cloth of his shirt until his knuckles paled, "Just...Leave."

A silence drowned the room. Neither of them moved for what seemed like forever.

Then, quietly, Spock picked himself up off the floor, not bothering to fasten his pants, then disappeared from behind the sliding door, the almost silent _fwap_ assuring Leonard that he wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *covers face* Legit the first time I have ever written anything even remotely pervy......*melts from shame* I am so sorry for shit quality. I'm a noob, what can I say? But thank you for reading and not judging me T~T *evaporates*
> 
> Don't ask me why I'm writing this because I have no idea XD and sorry that they're so OOC idek what I'm doing.


	3. Silent Pleas and Even Quieter Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath?? Bones makes a decision!

As if his job weren't hard enough, now he had _this_ to deal with.

This being Spock, namely, avoiding him.

Now, McCoy didn't like to _think_ of himself as one for avoiding conflict. He believed he was a straightforward kind of guy; if he had a problem with someone he'd take it right to 'em and solve it.

Well, maybe a problem, sure, but this--this, he told himself, was more than just a _problem._ It wasn't exactly something he could--nor wanted to--bring up for the rest of eternity. And he sure as hell didn't want to see Spock for the rest of two. Not that he could really help it...

_Dammit!_ He hissed in his thoughts, gritting his teeth as he pushed himself further into the wall and out of view from the saucer corridor. He took in a breath and held it just as Spock walked steadily passed with his hands locked behind his back. Leonard knew that the Vulcan was looking for him, but he'd much rather not encounter Spock unless two things happened:

1.) Spock was dying and Leonard had to save him (he is a doctor, after all, not heartless) or 2.) Spock died and Leonard had to attend his funeral...

Hell, Leonard didn't care if he was dying himself and Spock was the only one that could save him. He'd rather die than face the Vulcan right now.

He hadn't been able to face him for a little less than a week. Not that he was scared to approach him or anything, not Leonard McCoy! No, he just needed time to sort out his thoughts was all...

Waiting a solid forty seconds before daring to move, he released the breath in an exasperated huff then looked up and down the hall once more for good measure. Deciding that the case was clear, Leonard scurried from his hiding place and hauled ass towards the turbo lift, trying to look as non-suspicious as possible while containing the desire to take off at a dead run.

He just wanted to get back to his med-bay. Back to his empty hypos and his beeping monitors and his less-than-hope-filling hacksaws that he had hanging on the walls for the sole purpose of intimidating the reckless ensigns that always bothered him right before lunch time.

"Doctor McCoy."

_Shit._

Leonard froze, the all too familiar elegance of Spock's voice almost sending him into a primitive panic.

_That good-for-nothing sneaky, underhanded, green-blooded bastard! He ambushed me!_ His mind was a swirl of discombobulated thoughts and feelings; his heart was racing and he dared not turn to look him in the eyes. Whipping himself around and going back the way he came, Leonard started inching away from Spock, still refusing to even look at him.

"Uh, yeah, Spock I can't talk now, so I'll see ya later." Waving his hand in a dismissive, carefree way to try and hide his rising fear, Leonard picked up his pace, not really sure where he was going. His mind just said to get away, and that's what he planned on doing.

But, of course, Spock's footsteps tailed him like his own shadow. He was always just as stubborn as Leonard, if not more so under that stoic, emotionless façade.

"Doctor, please wait." But at the sound of his voice so close, Leonard instinctively quickened his pace until he suddenly found himself running. He wasn't sure if Spock would follow, didn't care; his mind was a putrid swamp of fear and uncertainty and it was making his legs weak, his stomach ill.

His heart was thundering so loud in his ears that he couldn't hear the worried murmurs or angry shouts of ensigns that looked his way as he passed, only the thumping of blood rushing through his veins and the ragged cycle of his exerted respiration.

How had he ended up like this, reduced to such a low at the mere idea of _talking_ to _Spock?_

Suddenly he felt the warmth of a hand gripping a bit too tightly to his wrist. The feeling seemed to flow into him; it was a unwelcome, foreign plauge devouring him that started with his trembling hands. A heat that seemed so intense in contrast to the sudden chill of the metal bulkhead he found himself pushed against.

Spock's eyes were fierce, like a piercing dagger into his soul and the only thing stuck in Leonard's mind was, _touch telepath._

But no matter how much his mind screamed, his body refused to move.

It was happening again. It hadn't even been a whole damn week, and it was happening all over again; Leonard was just as helpless as the first time. How many more times, he wondered would he be subjected to the will of this monster?

Spock raised a hand and Leonard stared warily, his brows practically touching as he anticipated what was to come. He shut his eyes, deciding that, despite all of the times he'd been threatened in such a close proximity--the time with Khan and even the time where Spock had his hands around Leonard's throat--that this was the one thing he couldn't keep his placidity up for. He always mocked the, "Vulcan voodoo," but more out of fear than anything else.

Because what more to fear than what you could never possibly understand?

Moments passed but Leonard did not feel Spock move any closer. Steadily letting out a breath, he slowly opened his eyes at the sound of Spock's surprisingly weary voice mumble, _"Doctor."_

His eyes were different, Leonard noticed: tired, confused, grief-stricken, remorseful, ashamed--it was a part of Spock he had never seen and he wasn't sure what scared him more, this Spock or the Spock that Leonard wasn't sure wanted to rape him or kill him or, quite possibly, both.

"Doctor," he said again but it seemed to be nothing more than an exhale of stale breath. Spock moved slowly, dropping his hands away from Leonard's wrists, leaning forward to lean his forhead against the wall beside Leonard's ear, "I apologise emensely for my...illogical behaviour and any wrongdoings that I have inflicted upon you." His voice was low and Leonard could feel it rumble within his chest; it was such an intimate feeling and Leonard didn't know how he should feel.

"Leonard," he said slowly, and the unexpected use of his first name--not _doctor_ \--set his nerves on fire. Leonard held his breath, not sure what to expect, "I am sorry."

And all sound seemed to escspe him.

What was this? What was happening? For the past five days he'd been doing nothing but despising Spock and cursing his Vulcan blood; he'd been traumatised.

But something whispered in the back of his mind, _not him, not him_.

And Leonard was forced to believe it. There was something wrong here. This weeping mess was not Spock, but neither was the demon that had showed a glimpse of itself not moments ago. Something happened to Spock when they went down to that planet.

And as physician aboard the Enterprise, and as Spock's friend--regardless of his own, deep-seated fears--he silently pledged to the Vulcan that he would find a way to fix this.


End file.
